


Proper

by moonflowers



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Fluff, Getting dressed/undressed, M/M, Thomas has no chill, Uniform Appreciation, sleepy mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 12:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowers/pseuds/moonflowers
Summary: Thomas enjoyed getting James back into his uniform almost as much as he enjoyed getting him out of it.





	Proper

**Author's Note:**

> Expansion on [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11063913/chapters/24748593) ficlet I wrote a while back for the prompt "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

"You need to wake up, because I can't do this without you." 

Thomas came around from a pleasant night's rest, sheets bunched at his waist and arms around a pillow, limbs heavy with drowsiness and his breath still the low, languid breaths of sleep. Perhaps more notable than all of these things, was the very naked lieutenant in the bed beside him. The lengths of their bodies were pressed together, sleep warm, James' arm firm around his middle and resting on his belly, stroking gently as he kissed at Thomas' ear. It was these things that Thomas registered first, before his dream-fogged head caught up, and made sense of the words James had just mumbled into his neck. 

"What can't you do?" he said, voice thick, and opened his eyes to the grey morning light of his bedchamber. They'd neglected to close the curtains, occupied as they had been the evening before, though the day had dawned so dull and overcast, that the room was still dim. It would be raining again soon enough, no doubt. As Thomas lay with James' chest curved to his back he wasn't able to see him, but he could feel him; his weight dipping the mattress, their legs entwined, his ever cold feet tempered by James' seeming ever warm ones. He shifted back, closer into him, eyes slipping closed again. Thomas was an habitually early riser, as he felt it his duty to spend as much time at his work as he could, but since having James in his bed it seemed he was significantly less eager to leave it.

"Get dressed." 

Thomas snorted, trying belatedly to smother it into the pillow. _Ah. So that was his game._ "Oh?"

"It amuses you?" James said. Thomas could feel him smiling into the back of his neck.

"Of course not, my dear. If you really need my help," Thomas sat up, feigning nonchalance, to see James watching him with poorly concealed mirth, "it would be absolutely rotten of me to refuse a man in need."

They were both aware that James was perfectly capable of dressing himself. But it had become apparent to Thomas over the course of their time together that he very much liked to see James pristine and tidy and properly buckled up in his uniform, polished to perfection. Also that he found the act of dressing him in it, fastening each tie and button and ensuring each crease lay smooth, almost as erotic as taking it off. And James knew it. 

"How generous of you, my lord," he inclined his head, tousled hair falling over his shoulder.

"It's not without it's benefits," said Thomas. "Now, up you get, lieutenant."

Mouth twisting briefly into a smile, James pushed himself up off the bed, unfolding, stretching the sleep out of his arms and back. As ever, Thomas' gaze drifted to the shifting muscle of his shoulders as he did so, freckled and kept pale by long days hidden under the layers of his uniform. His attention moved further down as James turned to face him, coming to rest on his thighs, even paler than the rest of him where the skin was thinner, well muscled and dotted with more of those delightful freckles. More distracting still was the mark Thomas had left there, a deep plum colour where he'd sucked and teased the skin with his teeth the night before, while James' fingers tugged at his hair. 

"Come now my lord," James said, effectively cutting short his reliving their evening together, "it's not like you to keep a man waiting."

"I apologise my dear, but you are terribly distracting," Thomas said with an obvious flick of his eyes up and down the length of James' body. "And I'm afraid there's one more thing I must take care of before we begin."

"Oh?" James raised an eyebrow, watching as Thomas got to his feet.

"Mm," Thomas stood before him, the chill of early morning making him shudder after the warmth of the sheets and James' embrace, and he curled his toes into the thick bedroom carpet underfoot. He reached a hand up to run along James' arm, up to his shoulder and neck, flesh pebbled from his touch and the coldness of the room. James was already leaning in to him, eyes cast down to Thomas' lips as the latter wound his fingers in the curling hair come loose form James' queue to ease him into a kiss. 

It was Thomas who pulled away, just an inch or so, leaving James to crane after him, eyes heavy lidded and glazed. With one last brief touch to the back of James' neck, Thomas moved away entirely to the washstand, his back to James as he poured water from the waiting jug into the bowl. He'd never much liked the feeling of being watched - more than once, he'd seen people snatch their gazes away from he and Miranda as they walked together in town or at a party, only to whisper about them once they'd passed. Of course he'd never cared a whit about whatever convoluted and no doubt more interesting than reality rumours they chose to occupy themselves with, but the weight of their attention, observing every move and anticipating a wrong one, set him on edge. James though... the weight of his gaze was not a stone waiting to be cast, or to crush him beneath its heft. It was like the warmth of a welcome fire at one's back after a night in the cold. 

"You can't mean to - " James said as Thomas approached with the water.

"I can and I will," Thomas said briskly as he set the bowl down. James muttered something derogatory, but Thomas just kissed his cheek and dipped a cloth into the water, cold but clean, and set to work. He wiped away the sweat and all other evidence of their night together from James' skin, pursing his lips against a smile at the way James flinched and swore when he pressed the cold cloth to his belly. He ran his fingers over the now cool skin in apology, and looked up to find James watching him again, mouth slack and a tiny, puzzled frown on his face, like he was wondering how on earth Thomas had gotten there.

"We best make haste," Thomas said quietly from where he knelt as James' feet, "we can't have you being late, can we lieutenant?"

"No. No, I... No." God help him, but he adored seeing James so flustered.

He stood, and collected James' pile of clothing from where he'd set it on a chair the night before. Fortunately, James had had just enough sense left to arrange it so that it wasn't left too badly creased. Thomas helped him into his underclothes without great incident, then slid his shirt over his head, taking a moment to smooth his hands over the broadness of James' chest through the thin material. Before James could comment, Thomas had moved onto the next item. And on they went, swapping little kisses, soft and quick, hands skimming over skin and smoothing over muscle, Thomas making a great show of fastening the buttons on James' breeches, hands firm on his hips as he ensured his waistcoat sat just right. Though Thomas took great pleasure in teasing James as he dressed him, he was not sloppy in his attentions - he knew James took pride in his appearance, and so Thomas ensured he took care in making sure he did things properly. Lord knew he'd had enough practice at getting quickly in and out of his own clothing over the past years - it would be a shame to let it all go to waste.

"If you're so concerned about me arriving at the admiralty on time this morning, my lord," said James after Thomas had voiced his concerns on whether James' breeches might be a little twisted, and spent a long moment with his palms resting on the seat of James' breeches to ensure they were properly in place, "this may not be the most effective method of allaying those concerns."

"Hush, I know what I'm doing," Thomas grinned, gripped more firmly before pulling away. "That seems to be in order."

"Thank you," said James dryly, and lifted his chin so Thomas could slip the topmost button of his waistcoat, carefully shined, neatly into its hole. It took rather a lot of willpower for Thomas not to kiss his throat.

"You're most welcome. Now, turn around."

James sighed, but did as he was bid, relaxing against Thomas as he ran his fingers through James' hair, taming it back into a semblance of respectability, and tying it in place. As much enjoyment as Thomas found in the sight of James all neat and proper, he freely admitted he loved his hair best loose, dark and coppery where it spread over his pillow.

"There," Thomas said as he held out James' coat for him to slip his arms into, taking more care than was necessary to ensure it sat neatly on his shoulders, smoothing his hands over the seams, "every inch the perfect example."

James huffed in amusement, held his gaze for a moment before going in search of his hat, only to remember he'd left it with the footman when he'd arrived, as he always did. 

By the time James was properly attired, any trace of early morning sleepiness had left them entirely, the both of them awake enough and interested that their bodies were stirring again. But alas, they each had matters to see to and duties to perform, and no time to make themselves untidy - or James at least, since Thomas was still far from dressed - only to have to hastily set themselves to rights again. With reluctance, Thomas stepped aside so that James could pull on his boots.

"I'll bid you good day then, my lord," said James as they stood at Thomas' bedchamber door, smiling softly as Thomas brought a hand to rest on his cheek. "Thank you, for your assistance."

"I shall be thinking of you," Thomas said, ducking his head to pull James into one last kiss, shallow but firm, in the hopes that if he pressed hard enough, he might be able to keep the feel of James' lips on his for the hours they were apart.

And with that, he sent a somewhat flustered but impeccably dressed lieutenant out of the door, already looking forward to that evening, when he'd be back in his bed once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this took forever, how is it so short?


End file.
